


The Stolen Dragonet

by Qalamity



Category: Wings of Fire - Tui T. Sutherland
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2020-08-19 20:29:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20215828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qalamity/pseuds/Qalamity
Summary: Marble has lived in the Sand Kingdom her whole life, firmly on track for a destiny of honor and importance. Alongside her best friends Torque and Adder she has been chosen to one day join Queen Scorpion's mighty army and fight for the kingdom. But after the events of one fateful day, Marble's orderly life begins to unravel down a path leading far from the sands she knows so well...





	1. Prologue - Part 1

**I decided to write a WoF prequel story with some ideas swirling about in my head. If you readers like it, I have an outline for two more stories to come afterwards in a trilogy. It is set primarily in a time a few years after Darkstalker's imprisonment and concerns the next generation of dragons as their destinies are shaped. Many characters introduced will be ones of my own creation, but the universe of Pyrrhia belongs to Tui T. Sutherland. This first chapter is part 1 of the prologue, the next chapter will be part 2. Afterwards the chapters following will primarily be focused on the main characters and their time. But for now, this beginning gives some flavor and sets up what is to come. The cover for the story is my own work, and a portrait of Marble. I hope you all enjoy my scrawlings as much as I enjoyed making them.**

**This is part 1 of the prologue, to skip to when our main character shows up head to chapter 3.**

Somewhere deep within a long undisturbed dusty cave, a miner toiled. He'd been working away at the stone for some time, stopping to take occasional breaks for food and drink. Though he'd been retired for a few years now, curiosity had driven him to excavate the quiet hideaway nonetheless. Upon stumbling inside a few days previously seeking shelter from torrential rain he'd been surprised to discover some odd objects. They appeared to be artifacts of an old civilization, though there was something suggestive of... divergence from standard relics. For example all of them seemed unusually large. The miner had first found a massive urn of some kind of baked clay that was as long as he was tall. Etched upon it were flowing lines that seemed to indicate rivers of some kind. Tracing the engravings for a moment, he realized additional details within the waters. Serpentine creatures were depicted as swimming through the water, their oddly expressive snouts communicating joy in their design. Something marked them as more than mere snakes; long, graceful wings.

_'Dragons?'_ the miner wondered to himself.

Such creatures were popular in folklore and old tales of the land. Mythical though they were, the beasts were regarded with a sort of wonder by the civilization of Pendria. Artists would paint their graceful forms in many styles in more fantastical works. Some family crests, including that of the royal family, included dragons as part of their imagery. Quietly, the miner pondered how the old stories of magical creatures could linger so in their world, despite never having existed outside of those stories.

He'd nearly tripped over the next ancient thing; it lay broken on the ground, obscured by a layer of dust and dirt. As the miner picked up one of the pieces and brushed away the coating of debris he was surprised to feel the smooth texture of glass. Even stranger, within the glass swirled many shades of blue and green in ways he'd never seen. The best he could compare it to were some new kinds of glass art that the court sculptors had been trying to create recently. But they lacked the touch of evident time and mastery with which the broken item before him was made.

Before he could inspect the fractured artwork more closely, the miner's eyes were drawn to a rectangular shape near his feet. Reaching to pick it up, it was evidently some kind of book. Though, like the other oddities, it was very large. By the time the miner was able to drag it upright and set it against the cave's wall it more resembled a door than a book. It took an effort to open; at first he'd examined the leather cover for a title, but found none. After straining his arms to push the cover open he coughed at a great cloud of dust, fragments of paper and bugs that billowed from the tattered pages. To his disappointment, most of the book had been eaten away through a combination of time, nature and insects. But several of the beginning pages remained intact. Tentatively, the miner began to read. As he delved past the introductory note, he began to mourn that he would only be able to get a glimpse into the strange world the book uncovered. He could only begin to guess at the true breadth of the chronicle half-crumbled away by the ages.

_Pyrrhia's history is a long and turbulent one. As an island inhabited by dragons, it was always destined to be a nexus of many great and terrible events. Some of these events have become obscured and forgotten in the fog of the far past. Here, in this tome, is one such lost fragment. Though the time itself may have been left behind in memory it was one that resonated through the centuries to come. But there are those who do still remember the ancestors of some of Pyrrhia's most remarkable dragons. To know how they lived and died is to know how the years were shaped. Because after all, you cannot have history without telling a story..._

* * *

The tale begins atop a dark rocky peak shortly after sunset. A somewhat small but sturdy home made of stone and wood rests on the flat, wide surface at the very top. Though it is gray and unremarkable on the outside, through painted glass windows there can be seen colorful flashes that hint at interior beauty. A balcony stretches outside as though reaching for the great view below. The occupants of the structure are few, but they are happy. One was stepping out onto the balcony at a leisurely pace. His scales melded with the night sky; deep hues of black and gray, his wings speckled with points of light like the uncountable stars far above. A simple pair of round spectacles helped to focus his eyes as they scanned the peaceful environment before coming to rest on something on the balcony floor.

He took a breath of the refreshing nighttime air and stepped towards the small treasures that lay nearby. He carefully adjusted his left foreleg as he moved. Gently clutched in it was a delicate, flat object with an oval shape. Upon it's canvas were inscribed uncountable hues of blue and white. Together the colors flowed and mingled to create a single wondrous moment in time, not unlike the great ocean as it is always moving to shape the world. The scene had been painted with great passion, that much was clear. The image formed from the many colors seemed almost real in it's expression. The trio of subjects it was focused around were now right at the talons of it's carrier, who had come to a stop.

The night dragon placed the painting down to rest upon the edge of a large ring of twigs, cotton, and various other fragments of nature. Together they were woven to form a cozy nest for three small, sleeping beings. The dragon before them, their father, smiled warmly at them as though they were already hatched and running about. In the darkness the eggs seemed almost invisible to those without good night vision. Their smooth shells were grey-black, speckled with little white dots as if reflecting the sky. For now they lay very still as the new lives inside slowly grew their small forms.

A new set of talonsteps approached from the house towards the nest. It was another dragon, a female, with an unusual but beautiful combination of features. Her scales were a deep, dark blue that seemed to hint at calm, quiet places far underwater. From her elegant, diamond shaped head to her tail a series of spines the color of fresh snow ran down across her back. The membranes of her wings shared this striking shade; especially evident was a spattering of black spots along the white. The effect was resplendent, if unusual. Her eyes, a deep blue not unlike her scales, seemed to shine as they moved about to take in every interesting sight. She stopped beside the night dragon; her mate, Thoughtful.

The pair smiled at one another and briefly nuzzled. There was not a sound exchanged between them, but their love didn't need to be expressed in words. Together they settled in the cool air to watch over the nest and their precious children. The female, their mother, Whiteout, traced a claw around the painting she had created for them. It didn't merely depict the eggs in their nest, as one may have thought; rising above each egg were faint suggestions of the forms that would hatch from them. Whiteout's claw stopped briefly above one; her shining eyes became mournful. She spoke, in a dreamy way that whispered like a breeze through tree branches.

"The water sleeps now. But the sky will melt it away to the end."

Thoughtful, sensing the sadness in Whiteout's tone, twined his tail around hers in comfort. He didn't know what she might have seen; he didn't have her powers. It was something he'd come to learn about the extraordinary dragoness who was now his mate. She saw things, sometimes, not unlike her brother's powers of future sight. Through their time together Thoughtful and Whiteout had become linked, in a way, with a bond of sympathy. They expressed themselves through colorful artworks, melodic songs and elegant dance. It was almost as if they spoke a language known wholly to them at times when they didn't talk aloud. It was through their knowing of one another that Thoughtful discovered faint but definite powers within Whiteout.

Now and then she would mention something in her mysterious way of wording, feelings interwoven with her speech hinting at what marvels and tragedies might be twirling inside her wonderful mind. At times it worried Thoughtful. It concerned him that these visions could scare her, or make her sad, but he couldn't see what troubled her so. The best he could do was offer comfort when she needed it. That was what he did now, his eyes resting for a moment upon the painted egg below Whiteout's claw. The eggs were safe with them now, as they had always been. But Thoughtful's brow creased in worry as he began to wonder if that could change.

Whiteout lifted her head from the painting and clasped one of Thoughtful's foretalons in her own. She leaned in, resting her head against his. Once again her serene voice wove into the night winds.

"Don't worry, the little lights won't go out. We will let them shine forever, won't we?"

A smile crept along Thoughtful's snout once more. Whiteout could always make him smile, no matter how much of a worry-wart he was.

"We will. The night is our friend; it won't take away our lights."

The pair rumbled faintly in contentment, for despite the horrors they'd been through, the kingdom and family they'd lost, here and now, together, they were home. Nothing in the world could take that from them.

* * *

The next day, as the dawn spread it's glorious hues of red and yellow across the land, two hidden dragons lay waiting. Both watched the quiet stone aerie with purpose and patience. To the left was a thinly muscled female, her scales rich shades of orange-yellow not unlike the spreading sunrise. To the right was a stockier male with scales reminiscent of dark sand, speckled with faint brown across his head and wings. Now and then their tails twined together to calm one another as they waited.

The female raised her head slightly to peer at the distant nest. The eggs nestled within were without guard for the time being. She knew their mother would be back soon to fuss over them before she slept; now was the time.

"Let's go." whispered the slender female, her large wings unfurling as she crouched to launch into the sky.

Her partner followed behind as they took to the air. Swiftly the female approached the unguarded nest; the male hung back a distance and watched for disturbances. The female dropped onto the platform as silently as a feather and gave a cautious look around. She used her other senses; no recent scents. No sounds of talonsteps or voices. Her eyes lingered for a moment on the colorful decorations that lined the balcony; glass sculptures of many shapes and sizes, canvases with scenes unfurled in various pigments of the color blue. One of these paintings, a small one depicting three eggs, lay on the edge of the nest.

The dragoness shook her head briefly, her focus returning to the job at talon. Carefully, ever so carefully, she dipped her head down to the clutch of speckled black eggs and listened. Three sets of heartbeats thumped faintly in her ears. She raised a talon and delicately chose just one egg to lift up. Holding it closely to her chest she once more lifted into the air and hovered for a moment. With care she removed a dried fern from her satchel and used it to sweep away any marks left behind from her short appearance. Almost the second she'd tucked the fern back into her satchel she snapped her head up with a start. Talonsteps. Not too close, but certainly approaching her position. The brightly-colored dragoness turned and dove down from the edge of the aerie swiftly; lifting up from the platform would have created a gust and possibly alerted the approaching dragon to her presence.

The male that waited for her within the shadows moved to follow as soon as he witnessed her rapid descent and consequent lift. Within minutes they were far from the sunlit ledge, their wings pumping hard to propel them away as fast as possible. Sitting quietly upon that distant ledge with her tail curled around her remaining two eggs was the victim of their thieving. Though the thieves were long out of sight, her dark eyes stared in the direction they'd gone as if she could see them clearly. She murmured softly to herself in a dreamy way.

"Six legged stinger. Wanderings with sea and glass. Safe times..."

She dipped her head from the misty morning sky and slowly curled herself around her remaining pair of dormant children.

* * *

"Careful; if you drop that, we're as good as dead."

Her male compatriot replied slowly, "When it hatches... what will be done, Dunesweep? Given it's parentage it will probably look just like a nightwing."

"That is for the queen to decide," her reply was brusque, "If she wants to make full use of it's potential it'd be best not to keep it locked away. Although, she'll have a time explaining it's presence."

"Ugh, glad that's not part of our job. I'll be happy to be rid of this fragile nuisance." he looked down upon the dark oval cradled in his claws, snout wrinkled in disdain.

Dunesweep snorted at her mate's annoyance, "Oh hush, Gritclaw. That "Fragile nuisance" will be setting us up quite well indeed with the queen. Animus blood within our tribe can be useful. Jerboa was proof of that, until she defected and ran off to who-knows-where."

"Are you sure about that? Wouldn't animus blood be a bit risky after, oh, I don't know," he paused in his sarcasm before whispering rather loudly, "_an insane animus drove away his entire tribe after trying to kill and control them with his powers?!_"

Gritclaw winced as Dunesweep hit him sharply with her wing and hissed, "Shhh! We aren't home free yet, idiot. Save your ranting for when we get back. Anyways, of course if any animus dragons are produced through this... project, they won't be allowed to use their powers much, if at all." she sighed, "We got lucky with Jerboa, but now that she's gone we'll need to be careful with any new animus dragons."

"Then what's the mudding point of all this?" Gritclaw asked with exasperation, straining to keep his voice low per his mate's chagrin.

"Simply possessing animus blood within a tribe gives it greater power." Dunesweep replied matter-of-factly, "In these uncertain times an animus dragon can be used as a warning to other tribes... if they tried to attack us, we'd turn the animus loose on them and they'd be goners. After the Seawing Massacre and what happened to the Nightwings nobody would dare try to fight a tribe that holds an animus."

Once more, Gritclaw glanced down at the small, yet significant thing he held as he flew, "A shield against war... or a devastating weapon if one occurs. Clever. Still, it's mother didn't possess the powers of... _him._ It's unlikely it will be an animus itself."

"That might be a better outcome for us," Dunesweep nodded. "We need to lie low with all the recent turmoil; a new animus would be a little more than unhealthy for our political position. Although we'd have a great weapon, it isn't wise to have all other tribes turn against us right now. We must keep our allies. Once things have died down, an animus in the later generations would be of more benefit."

Gritclaw shook his head with a grumble, "So, even if we succeed in our mission it probably won't bear fruit until after we're dead."

There was a pause as they came to their resting spot, a small, dusty cave hidden within a rocky crag. Dunesweep hovered for a moment to scan for threats. After a minute of silence she gave a nod to confirm their safety and they glided down to land.

The pair squeezed through the narrow entry carefully, making sure to handle their quarry delicately. Gritclaw passed the egg to his mate, who was to keep it for her first watch shift. They had agreed prior that whoever was on watch would hold the egg; this way, if they were surprised, it would be easier for them to escape rather than the one asleep, who would be momentarily vulnerable as they woke.

As he settled down to sleep, Gritclaw gave a sigh. A flash of worry crossed his face as he glanced at the starless dark outside. "I hope this is worth it."

Dunesweep turned and nudged him reassuringly, for a moment dropping her gruff exterior and letting affection shine through. "We'll be fine; The queen chose us for a reason. We are, after all, two of her best spies."

Gritclaw's worried frown dissipated for a moment. A wry grin crossed his snout as old memories glinted in his dark eyes, "I don't know Dunesweep, wasn't it your fault Queen Carmine discovered that we were actually working against her?"

A huff issued from the dragoness as she turned away and swatted him with her tail. "As I recall, it was your clumsy Sandwing talonsteps that alerted her guard."

Her mate feigned confusion, tapping his chin with a claw and retorting, "Hmm, I don't know, I seem to remember a Skywing that tripped on her oversized wing and tumbled through a bunch of noisy gold coins."

Dunesweep rolled her eyes with a smile, bending down to nuzzle her mate, "That may be so... but despite that short-sighted dragon alerting the others we still got her. In all the commotion nobody saw the little snake that bit "her majesty" until it was too late."

A low rumble issued from their throats as they took a moment to be at peace before resuming their dire objectives.

"I'm sorry about getting you exiled..." whispered Gritclaw as he lowered his head and began drifting off to sleep.

His mate lifted her head from his and turned back to her vigil, sitting straight and alert for danger. She kept the precious egg close and curled in one of her foretalons. She replied quietly, "Don't worry... I never liked the Sky kingdom much anyway. Too stuffy."

Dunesweep heard a soft chuckle issue from behind her, followed shortly by deep, slow breathing indicative of a sleeping dragon. With a quiet sigh, she gazed across the dawning horizon and thought of the journey to come.

**That's the end of part 1 of the prologue! I split it partially due to length and partially so I can get some feedback on this first taster chapter and see what you all think. If you feel inclined, leave a review with any comments and/or criticisms. This is the first writing of mine in a while and I'd like to know how it turned out to start with. I've yet to set an upload schedule, but the next part of the prologue will probably be up a week from now.**


	2. Prologue - Part 2

Shortly before the sun began it's ascent on the horizon, Gritclaw turned from watch to wake his mate. He gave a sleepy yawn as he walked towards her, wayward egg held beside his chest safely. Fortunately it hadn't hatched, nor shown signs of it. That was one of several things Gritclaw had been quietly worrying over as he sat on watch. Always he was cautious of the egg stirring, cracking, hatching, right there in the dusty cave. It would make their mission more problematic if they had to deal with a newborn hatchling.

As he nudged Dunesweep awake, Gritclaw smiled as he thought, for a moment, of home. _'Eggs are nice and quiet. They don't need too much tending, either. I may not have to deal with this egg hatching, but our clutch is due soon... I hope I'll be ready. If we make it home, that is.'_

After Dunesweep was sufficiently awake the pair took a short break to eat from their supplies for the remaining flight. Dunesweep kept the egg nestled within the coils of her tail to keep it warm, now and then turning to listen to the gentle sounds deep within the shell. She'd heard from broodmothers that the sounds of an egg could be indicative of many things. With her own clutch to tend to she'd taken to listening to their advice more attentively. If what she'd heard was correct, when an egg was very close to hatching there would be a slight tapping sound, accompanied by swishing fluid. This was supposedly the hatchling's first signs of trying to break the shell with their egg-tooth while the fluid sloshed around due to their restless movement. She was relieved that this was not what she heard when she checked. Instead, there was merely a very faint heartbeat, accompanied by the gentle sound of the egg fluid as it floated around inside.

"The egg seems healthy. I doubt it'll be hatching soon. We should be able to make it back to the stronghold today with little trouble if we don't get attacked." Dunesweep said as they finished eating their breakfast of dried cow meat.

"We ought to head out fast, then." her mate replied as he glanced outside uneasily, "We'll be easy to spot when the sun's come up."

Following Gritclaw's advice, they left the cave almost as soon as they'd finished their meager meal. By the time they were within sight of the Sand Stronghold the noon sun blazed down from high in the sky.

Fortunately for the returning spies the weather was, for the moment, calm. Had there been a sandstorm they would likely needed to have taken shelter and waited it out. Gritclaw broke into a grin as his imposing home neared, yellow-orange figures weaving in, out and around it. He took a deep breath of the fresh, dry air and laughed,

"It's great to be home! The Night Kingdom was such a dismal place. We've managed to loot a lot from it, but I'd rather not go back..." a shudder passed through him as he recalled what Dunesweep and himself had seen when they'd been with a looting group several nights ago.

Once a grand city teeming with wealth, knowledge and life, after the advent of Darkstalker it was left but a mere shadow. With it's inhabitants fled to an unknown place so suddenly there were few sounds save those of lingering animals. Some random belongings lay scattered in the streets, abandoned in their owner's haste to get away. The houses were cold and empty. The school was a silent shell with not a dragon to wander it's educated halls save the SandWing looters.

Dunesweep quietly agreed with her mate's trepidation. Together they had seen perhaps the most grisly sight in that haunted place, the city's single resident that had not fled. The infamous Prince Arctic the IceWing, known to the spies well from their gathered information, had lain dead upon a flat obsidian stage. Though his corpse was well into decomposition it was clear he had died in a most gruesome way. From whispered rumors here and there it was gathered that his own son Darkstalker had used his animus powers to make his father rip out his own tongue and disembowel himself upon the stage.

_'And to think, here in my claws I hold the niece or nephew of that monster. I thank the moons it isn't his own child. At least his sister did not hold the same evil within her.' _Dunesweep thought to herself, returning to the present time.

As the entrance of the grand Sand Stronghold came into their view, two burly guards flew out to meet them. They were aged, but tough-looking and dangerous. They were adorned in weathered armor of bronze with deadly sharp spears gripped in both foretalons. Many scars scored their pale tawny scales, evidence of victory in numerous harrowing battles. By their similar looks it could be deduced that they were, in fact, brothers. There were few that lived in the Sand Kingdom who did not know of the legendary Snakebite and Stonegrip.

"Gritclaw and Dunesweep. Was your mission a success?" asked one curtly, his face covered in old scars from many past fights. By the deep gash through the left side of his jaw and missing horn it was evident that this was Stonegrip.

In answer Dunesweep briefly held out the small dark egg before quickly tucking it to her chest again. The guard nodded in approval and continued,

"Good. Come, we shall take you to Queen Scorpion."

* * *

Flanked by the imposing guards the two spies entered the vast Sand Stronghold. Air rushed past dragons bustling about inside as the quartet made their way to the grand chamber of Queen Scorpion. A few of the civilians muttered to one another about the sight as they went about their daily routines. They knew of Gritclaw and his mate, Dunesweep the SkyWing, formerly known as Cloudsweep. In hushed stories passed from ear to ear the secret history had become rooted in the sands of their home.

It was said that the wayward SkyWing first came to the Sand Kingdom some years ago as an emissary from Queen Carmine of the SkyWings to negotiate relations and trade between the two tribes. As it turned out, Cloudsweep was actually sent to spy on the workings of the Sand Kingdom's military moves. Carmine was attempting to figure out how she could perhaps battle over some land for her own kingdom or defend against any incursions from the SandWings. This was first discovered by Gritclaw, who at the time was an agent of Queen Scorpion that had been trained well in espionage. So that she could have a stake in negotiations, and to keep an eye on the other queen, Scorpion had assigned Gritclaw to work with Cloudsweep and act as an emissary to the SkyWing kingdom.

The pair traveled back and forth from the kingdoms over time as they gathered information. During this period the two had become good friends with one another. Gritclaw was known to be often quiet as his tasks dictated, but he enjoyed how bold and outgoing Cloudsweep could be when they were temporarily free from their duties at parties and other gatherings. She confessed to him over time that she didn't enjoy living and working with her queen as much as she had once thought she would. Cloudsweep found many of the other SkyWings to be rather haughty and too reserved. This was especially true for the higher-ranking ones she would often have to associate with. She had been hatched to a couple of such ranking. Her father Fletcher was a soldier, known for leading a small but effective troop for quick and deadly missions. Her mother Tigerseye was an advisor to the queen, and although somewhat hopeless with tooth-and-claw fighting was well versed in the subtle combat of court life.

Fletcher had taught Cloudsweep his knowledge of combat from an early age, sure she was destined to be a great warrior. Tigerseye meanwhile gave her daughter insight into subtler ways of harming others and drawing information from them. As she approached adulthood she had been honed into a useful weapon indeed, and Queen Carmine took note of this. When Fletcher was killed during an ambush she'd considered replacing him with his daughter. But Carmine was patient. She could see there would be a better and stealthier use for Cloudsweep, who was chosen to be a spy.

She hid it well, but Cloudsweep was not as loyal to her queen as she may have seemed. Even as a dragonet she'd held a dislike for the conniving, selfish ruler who seemed to care little about her own subjects. The way her life was restricted by the many rules of her position did not help either. She'd always been a restless sort, and more than once had wanted to yell at the queen's boring council members to just let her have fun and freedom. During her trips to the Sand Kingdom her dislike for the queen and her ways was merely strengthened.

The SandWings seemed a more carefree tribe, though their military was known for it's rigid discipline and uniformity. They seemed to lack the many stifling formalities and procedures Cloudsweep had to endure in the Sky kingdom. She rather enjoyed being able to joke around and fly through the gusts of desert winds as she pleased whenever she visited without being yelled at to stop goofing off and act like her rank decreed. Upon befriending Gritclaw she began to wonder to herself if she really ought to keep working for Queen Carmine. It was this doubt that lead to Gritclaw eventually uncovering her identity as a spy. Unwilling to put his friend in danger, and hearing her confess her diminishing loyalty, Gritclaw instead suggested to Queen Scorpion that she become a double agent working for the benefit of the SandWings.

Scorpion consented after some discussion, but warned Cloudsweep of severe and brutal punishment should she betray them. From this time onwards Cloudsweep's reports to Carmine were mostly inaccurate, lies woven with a few truths. Meanwhile she began assisting Gritclaw in gathering information on the royal SkyWing court. A plot had formed in Queen Scorpion's mind over some time concerning the SkyWing queen. The revelation that Carmine had been spying on her affairs merely strengthened her resolve.

* * *

Within Scorpion's royal chamber a plan was woven to assassinate the resplendent and selfish Queen Carmine. The way her death would be delivered was simple enough; a dragonbite viper taken from the Sand Kingdom's own territory. The trouble was finding a way to get it into the queen's chamber at the right time and in the right way. In this Cloudsweep proved immensely useful, for she had much knowledge of the workings within Carmine's court and the layout of her chamber. Over several months the plan was built and a time chosen to strike. After a terrible massacre during a visit to the SeaWing kingdom the SkyWings were primarily focused on the movements of their ocean-dwelling neighbors. It was then that Queen Scorpion gave the order for Cloudsweep to strike and truly test where her loyalties lay.

At first she was to be sent on the mission alone so as not to risk the loss of Gritclaw or the possibility of SkyWing retaliation against the SandWings. Gritclaw convinced his queen otherwise, stating he should be there to keep an eye on Cloudsweep and keep watch for any dragons that could find them before they succeeded.

The SandWing queen agreed thanks to her lingering skepticism of the SkyWing spy in her employ. In truth, Gritclaw had insisted on coming because the bond he and Cloudsweep shared had strengthened into love. Neither of them wanted to be separated from one another in this dangerous task. The mission occurred in the dark of night, with only one of the three moons shining above for light.

All went as planned until the two spies were within the queen's chamber; Cloudsweep had stumbled as she tried to navigate the pile of plundered gold upon which Queen Carmine slept. She almost dropped the box containing the deadly dragonbite viper in the process, but did make a bit of noise as she righted herself. This sound unfortunately alerted a lone guard passing close by the chamber door on his way home from a last-minute shift. He came running to see Cloudsweep beside the slumbering queen, carefully opening a box facing towards her sleeping form. Gritclaw remained hidden behind a nearby pillar and so was not spotted in turn. Realizing that something was wrong the guard gave a mighty yell;

"HELP! SOMEONE IS TRYING TO HURT THE QUEEN!"

This sudden loud noise made Cloudsweep yelp and drop the box, before quickly turning and launching away from the pile of gold. Fortunately for her the agitated snake that slithered out of it's small prison did not target the fleeing spy. Instead, it lunged for the enormous dragoness stirring upon her bed of coins. Queen Carmine gave a terrible thunderous roar of pain as she reared up in shock. She violently shook off the serpent from her foreleg and stomped upon it, but it was too late. It's black venom was spreading like a raging wildfire through her veins. Realizing with outrage she was about to die, Carmine whipped her head around for the culprit. Her sharp amber eyes found the fleeing form of Cloudsweep and she hissed out a single word with her failing breath, full of as much sinister venom as that which had spelled her doom.

"_Traitor..._"

At this point there was much yelling coming from outside accompanied by flapping wings and clinking weaponry. The guard who had come upon the scene recognized Cloudsweep as she slipped out one of the narrow windows on the chamber's side wall, having smashed the painted glass to get through. Gritclaw had exited before her from the skylight when he heard the guard running, aware that if he was seen it could spell disaster for his tribe. He'd given a warning look to Cloudsweep, but she'd shaken her head and remained. She would not give up her chance to kill the spiteful dragoness who had ruled her tribe for far too long.

In the present chaos the guard rushed up to check his queen, who lay sagging upon her treasure. Her breath became weak very rapidly. By the time the guard had reached her, Queen Carmine was dead. At this point a large group of SkyWing soldiers had come swooping into the chamber to protect their queen. There was a quiet gasp as they focused on her still form.

"Who... _who_ _did this?_" asked one voice hesitantly, curling into outrage.

The guard beside the queen's body turned his head to peer through the smashed window. Shards of it's colorful pane lay on the stone floor, some stained crimson. Bloody talonprints were evident on the windowsill. His talons clenched the coins beneath him as he began to seethe in anger at his failure. He turned to the momentarily flabbergasted crowd before him and boomed:

"CLOUDSWEEP HAS KILLED THE QUEEN WITH A TREACHEROUS POISON!," he paused and pointed to the smashed window for evidence.

Following his directions, half of the group split off in the window's exiting direction to search for the traitorous Cloudsweep. Many of them would recognize her on sight, given her position and workings for the tribe. Though the soldiers were fast flyers their delay had cost them their target. Gritclaw and Cloudsweep were extremely quick through the air when they needed to be, and at that moment they were pushing their wings to the brink as they made their escape.

* * *

Eventually, after flying for almost a full day the pair of spies arrived safely back at the SandWing Stronghold to report the outcome of their mission. Queen Scorpion was most pleased indeed, for not only had they succeeded in their assassination, but the SkyWings for now would not suspect the SandWings had a talon in it. There remained a lingering problem to be solved however. Word spread rapidly among the Sky Kingdom that Cloudsweep had betrayed her tribe and killed the queen. She'd been branded as an exile, to be killed on sight if she entered the Sky Kingdom's borders. She could never return to her home.

As a reward for her proven loyalty to the SandWings Queen Scorpion gave the SkyWing residence within her kingdom as a member of her tribe. Cloudsweep was content with this, though somewhat sad that she'd never be able to see her family members again. It stung her to think how ashamed of her they must be, but she shook it off. The next day she changed her name to Dunesweep both to lower rumors and as a final marking of her cutting ties with her old tribe. Scorpion announced her inclusion to the SandWing tribe the same day, cementing her decision.

Though it took time, eventually some of the other members of the tribe acknowledged Dunesweep with a begrudging respect. They knew she had done much and given much for a tribe that was not originally her own. Others remained adverse to her presence, murmuring that no dragon who'd betrayed their own tribe could be trusted. This diminished somewhat after the wedding of Gritclaw and Dunesweep. The ceremony that sealed their love also bound her more closely to the SandWing tribe.

For some months after the assassination the spies were permitted to deal with tasks only within the SandWing kingdom. Queen Scorpion did not want to risk anything while the SkyWings remained embroiled in chaos as they tried to appoint a new queen. Some time after their new queen, Queen Saffron, took the SkyWing throne negotiations once again opened between the SandWings and SkyWings. Though their new political alliance was a cautious one, Scorpion was satisfied that it was now safe to send her two spies back into the fray. Saffron herself was smart, but hesitant. Her lack of decisiveness reassured Scorpion that she would not be a threat for the time being.

For a few years afterwards things were quiet for the SandWing tribe barring minor border skirmishes. Despite the IceWing-NightWing war that continued to rage nearby it caused them no trouble. Queen Scorpion even profited from it; she allowed them to battle within her territory in exchange for treasure and supplies, so long as they stayed away from populated areas. Just in case, she made sure that her two spies kept an ear out for any danger that could come their way.

It was through Dunesweep and Gritclaw that she first learned of the stirrings of power within the Night Kingdom. The son of the infamous couple who had begun the IceWing-NightWing war had been revealed as an animus. To add to this he could supposedly read minds and see into the future. Scorpion had been considering making a pass at the NightWing queen at this time; she was aged, and her growing paranoia made her weak in Scorpion's eyes. But the news of Darkstalker made her wary. She learned too of his sister, Whiteout, but she apparently did not possess any powers and was considered a harmless oddity. Darkstalker on the other talon could prove to be a very real threat indeed.

Time continued to pass like this for a while. The war went on, and the SeaWing animus known as Fathom had come to the Night Kingdom to teach Darkstalker to be careful with his powers. Now and then the two animus dragons made Scorpion think of the animus her own tribe had once had, many years ago. Jerboa had made several useful things with her magic without showing signs of turning evil. In fact, Scorpion thought she'd been a bit soft. But she'd run away and likely died out in the desert.

Whenever Scorpion heard word concerning animus dragons since the SeaWing Massacre they always seemed to be spoken of with slight fear. She acknowledged this fear to be justified in the case of Darkstalker. He used his powers for many things, somewhat frivolously and without caution. He began working for Queen Vigilance, using his magic in the war to terrible effect. As time went on it was even rumored he enchanted things to manipulate his friends and enemies. When information concerning him took a turn for the grim Scorpion pulled out her spies from the Night Kingdom. Something terrible was going to happen there soon. From all she'd gathered about Darkstalker, she was sure. A dragon with so much power at their clawtips combined with a personality like his could spell only doom in the end.

The SandWing queen's suspicions were proven correct in the events of one terrible night. Word spread rapidly that Darkstalker had lost his mind, making his father kill himself as a grand demonstration for his plans to kill the NighWing queen and become king of the NightWings. This display of such terrible power and insanity had frightened the NightWings so badly that they had fled their own ancient city in droves to places unknown. For a few months the rest of Pyrrhia was in a state of fearful vigilance, waiting to defend themselves should Darkstalker turn on their kingdom next. But fortunately for them all he seemed to have somehow vanished shortly after the NightWing exodus.

When they were comfortable that the animus was no longer around to hunt them down the IceWings declared the war between their tribes to be over in their favor. Queen Diamond decreed that as a result of their victory, any NightWing seen near or within the Ice Kingdom would be killed on sight. Unfortunately the hatred fed by the long war would continue to linger for many decades after it's conclusion.

Meanwhile Queen Scorpion, ever shrewd, took advantage of the fear surrounding the abandoned Night Kingdom. She gradually sent in groups of soldiers to loot what valuables they could and add them to her own royal treasury. As they were nearest to the Night City and the IceWings were blocked from entering by Darkstalker's lingering magic barrier the SandWings had virtually no competition as they stole without pause for weeks.

As her wealth grew Scorpion began to think on adding to the might of her tribe. It was through all she had learned through the past years of the NightWings and their terrible animus that she formed a grand plan. A mission, for two of her best spies, to steal a dragon egg and bring animus blood to serve the SandWing Tribe once more.

So it went that the offspring of exiled artists was spirited away to distant deserts in the break of dawn, and a forgotten chapter of Pyrrhia's history began to unfold...


	3. Chapter 1

A few weeks after Gritclaw and Dunesweep's fateful return, a single moon waxed bright above the quiet Sand Stronghold. Most of it's denizens were sleeping in their homes after a long day of work in the desert sun. Curled up with their parents were hatchlings, snoozing contently after gleefully rollicking around with their fellows all day. Yet never was the entire population asleep. Stationed outside the walls, or tromping on patrol paths, were many soldiers and scouts. They remained vigilant in the cool night as they dutifully watched for threats to their kingdom. While some may have given the impression of weakness as they dozed or yawned, any enemy dragon that tried to attack would be foolish indeed. The lookouts were the venom-filled fangs of the slumbering Sand Kingdom; swift and deadly if provoked. But this night was fortuitous, for no danger would be troubling them. Instead this night was one that heralded new life for the SandWing Tribe, even if that life was a little different to the norm...

Within the SandWing hatchery a sleepy dragoness was checking and re-checking several nests. The eggs that lay within were orphans, many due to parents that had died in battle or sickness. Sand Kingdom law dictated that orphaned eggs be cared for and monitored in a series of chambers allocated for the specific purpose of their safety and nurturing. Four dragonesses known as broodmothers were staffed to watch over the clutches and keep them healthy. Each one was chosen for the job because of experience with raising eggs and hatchlings; many were widows who had lost their mates and children. This often meant they had no desire to have any more eggs of their own. But the tribe needed their skill and experience, so they were assigned as the guardians of parentless offspring.

The hatchery itself was guarded on the outside by a small squadron who rotated daily. While it was unlikely any enemy tribes would have the audacity to attack the eggs Queen Scorpion was adamant they not be left vulnerable. More common than the threat of enemy dragons were scavenging native wildlife. Jackals, desert hawks and other predators would make off with a dragon egg if given the chance. The guards ensured the creatures wouldn't be able to snatch them from under their snouts. Some enjoyed the would-be thieves as odd snacks to break the monotony of standing watch.

Inside the hatchery there would be two of the four broodmothers awake to monitor their charges. One of these, a slim pale yellow dragoness named Sunbeetle, was incredibly bored. There hadn't been any hatchings for over a week. For the past while her job had been nothing more than walking around the cluster of chambers and fussing over silent nests. What Sunbeetle most enjoyed about being a broodmother was watching new lives being born before her. It always warmed her heart to see the hatchlings as they soldiered on through their first challenge of breaking their eggshell and emerging into the world. No matter how harsh times were, these hatchings reminded Sunbeetle that new hope was always being born. Another bonus was that she often got to name the little boys or girls. Sometimes, though, this would lead to arguments with her co-worker over who's name was better for the hatchling.

Presently the other broodmother awake was a battle-scarred and rough-looking dragoness with scales the color of shadowed sand. She was an intimidating sight to behold for those who didn't know her. Her skin was lacerated with old cuts, gashes and bites. Her rear right leg was twisted and mangled, the result of an improperly healed shattered bone. Most of her face was pockmarked, though her eyes were mercifully both functional. The most shocking of her old wounds were not on her snout, however. Where both of her mighty wings should have been were only scarred stumps rising from her shoulders. She'd lost them from an IceWing interrogation long ago, courtesy of frostbreath.

Yet despite her appearance, the dragoness known as Sidewinder had a soft spot for little ones. After being dismissed due to her inability to fly she'd had children of her own with a fellow soldier. Over the years her hatchlings grew up and her mate passed on. Wanting to have a better purpose in her tribe, Sidewinder applied to become a broodmother and ensure the safety of future generations. Since being accepted she had done her best to care for the lives that had no family left to love them. As the eldest of the four broodmothers Sidewinder was often the one looked to for guidance by her peers. As she would be again on this moonlit night, for one egg in particular was about to hatch...

A long yawn echoed from one corner of the hatchery. Sunbeetle was doing her rounds along the northern chambers as she did almost every day. It was quiet tonight; the only sounds she could hear were the clicks of her own talons on the floor and the whistling breeze coming in from the open windows. Her head jerked up at a sudden noise; after a half-second Sunbeetle relaxed and rolled her eyes. It wasn't any new excitement to break her from the stifling boredom, just a guard snapping up an unfortunate animal for a midnight snack. Her own stomach was silent, but she took a moment to have a quick bite of her own regardless. Strapped along Sunbeetle's side was a brown jackal-leather pouch containing an assortment of dried meats and large insects for her to munch on between meals. Stopping at one of the nests beside her, she pulled out an alarmingly sized dried centipede and crunched on it idly.

The egg in this particular nest stood out from the others in the room. It was no shade of brown, yellow, white or orange like the SandWing eggs nearby. Instead the shell of this egg was deep, inky black, speckled with glimmering white spots. It was difficult to see in the dark thanks to it's color. Sunbeetle watched the small oval expectantly, smiling to herself. She began speaking to the egg, or rather the hatchling inside. She didn't know if it could understand her, but in some cases sound had been known to evoke a response from dragon eggs. Whatever was in there was listening, at least.

"Still haven't hatched yet, huh? Don't worry, we'll be ready when you do. I've made sure to read about NightWing egg cycles. I think you'll be hatching at night, but I'm not sure," Sunbeetle paused to munch on her snack quietly before continuing, "It'll be good if you do, cause it's nice and cool at night."

A sudden sneeze issued from Sunbeetle as she was about to take another bite of the centipede. She shook her head in annoyance, wrinkling her nose.

"Ugh, the dust doesn't vanish in the night though," she laughed to herself, moving towards a nearby closed window, "I wish it did; darn stuff makes me sneeze."

The wooden doors of the small window gave a low creak as they were pulled open to let in fresh air. The slight gusts dispersed the gathered dust, much to Sunbeetle's satisfaction. When she turned back to the egg, however, her face morphed into shock and she dropped her unfinished snack.

A shaft of moonlight from outside had fallen upon the NightWing egg, covering it in a soft silver light. But that wasn't what had shocked Sunbeetle. Instead it was the egg's shell that gave her cause for concern. Suddenly, the shell had changed from white-speckled black to a shining silver not unlike the moonlight streaming through the window. Sunbeetle began to panic, hopping about and looking around frantically.

"Oh, three moons! I never read or heard anything about this... what if it's sick? If I messed up the egg, Queen Scorpion will _kill_ me," she took a deep breath for calm, trying to stop pacing as her tail whipped about, "Okay, okay, calm down. First rule, if something unknown happens, listen..."

The broodmother ducked her head close to the silvery egg, closing her eyes and concentrating. She could hear the usual _thump, thump, thump_ rhythm of a healthy hatchling heart inside. That in itself gave Sunbeetle a bit of relief, and she let out a whoosh of breath she'd been holding. Other sounds accompanying the heartbeat made her perk up in worry again. The tell-tale _swish-swish,_ and quick _tap-tap-tap_ indicating a baby dragon soon to hatch were echoing inside the shell.

"Oh, cripes! It's gonna hatch!" Sunbeetle whispered to herself, partially in excitement and partially in fear.

She abruptly raised her head from the now shifting egg and called out into the chamber at the top of her lungs:

"_Sidewinder!_ It's hatching, and something weird's going on!"

About ten seconds passed with no response and Sunbeetle twisting her tail in her foreclaws in worry. Then, a steady thumping on the ground approached her. Sidewinder had come running on her powerful legs from the southern chamber upon hearing her co-worker's frantic yell. Thanks to years of having to run to get anywhere she was one of the fastest dragons in the tribe on land, and this was no exception.

The elder broodmother came to a halt beside the nest, whipping her head from the egg to Sunbeetle. Her features narrowed, and she snorted before assuming an authoritative stance. Since her days in the army she was used to taking command whenever she was needed and this had served her well in the hatchery.

"Hmm, did you do something to the egg? From all I know about NightWing life cycles I haven't heard anything about their shells turning silver."

Sunbeetle shook her head frantically, "No! I didn't touch it; I just turned around after opening the window and it was like this!"

She gestured to the window with an outstretched talon; Sidewinder narrowed her eyes briefly before focusing them on the NightWing egg.

"Okay, well, we can worry about that later. The important thing is the egg is still alive, and it's hatching," the elder dragoness nodded and stepped closer to the nest, "I'll stay and help you with this one. I've never hatched a NightWing egg, but damn it if I haven't helped bring hundreds of SandWings into the world. I'll do my best to make sure she comes out all right."

"She?" Sunbeetle inquired with surprise, perking her head up from checking the egg.

"Yes. If you listen very closely, and carefully, you can discern whether the hatchling will be male or female shortly before it hatches. It takes some experience, I might teach you someday, but enough of that for now." Sidewinder shook her head dismissively, turning back to the egg, "Be silent, and watch."

As if spurred on by the conversation nearby, the NightWing egg was now rocking back and forth inside the small nest of straw and feathers. The single moon hovering in the night sky outside seemed to reflect it's light off the shell as it moved.

For a moment, Sunbeetle broke the quiet, unable to keep from wondering, "I wonder what name we'll give you?"

A sudden loud crack split the cool night air, followed by a short, sharp cry.

* * *

Curled inside the shell of the only home she'd ever known, was the hatching baby dragon that the two broodmothers were fussing over. She'd been tucked away cozily for a long time now. The fluid encasing her was warm and kept her nourished. Her senses developed slowly as she grew, but most of the time she silently dozed in a semi-conscious state. The sharpest of her senses was hearing; she could pick up noises from outside, though she often didn't know what they meant. Some of the earliest sounds she heard came from a voice. It belonged to someone, the hatchling knew, and that someone was called mother.

It made the hatchling calm to hear mother's voice. It was a sweet, gentle sound that flowed around her egg like a river of protection. She felt a happiness inside her when she was near mother, for though she did not know what it meant yet, she was loved. The second voice the hatchling heard was distinctly deeper than mother's, though no less soothing. It had a different shape to mother's, coming in rolls and clusters like silent thunder. Yet the hatchling was not afraid, for she knew this voice came from father. Father's voice joined with mother's to enfold the hatchling with a great harmony and peace. It enfolded two others, as well; two beings just like her, growing inside their own shells and their own life-giving liquid. Yet the hatchling could sense that they were not the same as she. Both physically, and mentally, they were different, but they were like mother and father. They too were family; her siblings.

As her faint thoughts floated about they weren't expressed in words, but rather primal emotions and ancient memories. Somehow, she could recognize a tiny bit of the world moving around outside her. It gave her comfort and fostered an eagerness to join that world that grew just as her body did.

Time passed for a while in the company of these known beings. Yet, one day, the hatchling found herself taken to someplace else. Someone had picked her up from wherever she was and flown away. The hatchling didn't recognize the motions of the one grasping her shell. They belonged to someone new and unknown. A voice had attached to this someone shortly after they'd taken her.

It was unlike mother or father in several ways. The voice was female, like mother, but sharper, quicker. The tone and flow was also quite different. The voice swirled around the hatchling's egg before being snatched away in the wind as quickly as it had arrived. A second strange voice joined the first; deep, rough and male. Yet this voice was quieter and less jarring to the hatchling. The someone it belonged to didn't move quite as quickly as his companion.

The pair of strangers spoke often together for some time afterwards. The hatchling sensed they meant her no harm, and so slipped into a calmer and deeper rest for a while. The impressions that came to her then were faint; she arrived at a place distinctly warmer than where she had been. She passed through somewhere with a great tangle of voices before eventually coming to rest in a new nesting spot. From then on the hatchling heard only four voices near her, none of them known to her at first but all of good intention. As she thought in her primitive way about all these confusing things, the desire to learn of what was outside only increased. Her body grew, too, and eventually the confines of her shell became cramped and the nourishing egg-fluid sparse. The hatchling wanted to escape, but it wasn't until the light of one of Pyrrhia's moons shone into her egg that she truly tried.

The glowing silver rays had flooded into her small space suddenly and left a strange song resonating inside her heart that made her shiver. The song promised a gift to help her in the perilous outside world. It wasn't as safe, she knew, as her egg, but it held wonders she couldn't wait to experience. The hatchling accepted the song's promise and began to move inside her shell, pushing at it with what little strength she had. The song that granted her power also drew her to break out and share it with those who needed protecting. Two familiar voices began to respond in her attempts and it encouraged her to keep trying.

One sentence was heard with sudden clarity, from the softer voice; "I wonder what name we'll give you?"

_'Name!'_

With her first articulate thought, the hatchling pushed with all her might and at last broke from the shell that had cradled her for so long. The singing moonlight glowed upon her glistening dark scales, and she blinked her blue eyes at the sudden brightness before widening them and looking around. For the first time in her short life, she could _see._

"Oh, look at her! She's so _cute!_" gushed the soft voice the hatchling had known; she moved her eyes, and saw that it belonged to a towering yellow dragoness that looked quite different to herself.

"Hmph, all hatchlings are adorable. NightWings are no different." responded the rougher voice the hatchling knew. It's owner was stockier and darker than her companion.

The hatchling, though she was a hybrid, did indeed look just like a NightWing. Her scales were a mix of black-gray with a hint of dark blue. Her underbelly and the membranes of her wings were a lighter gray similar to the silver of her broken eggshell. Her tiny horns and the spines running down her back were white as snow, while her inquisitive eyes were navy blue. A line of lighter gray ran along each side of her face, together with her horns and spines a small reminder of the IceWing blood in her veins.

The darker dragoness bent her head down to the hatchling and soothed, "There there, now, hello little one! I'm your auntie Sidewinder," she paused, pointing at the paler, thinner dragoness, "and this is your auntie Sunbeetle. We're going to take care of you, don't worry."

The hatchling blinked her little eyes at the pair, then moved her snout in her first smile. She didn't really understand what they were saying, but could see they would care for her like mother and father would have.

Sunbeetle cooed at the baby dragon, placing her head in her foretalons and leaning on the edge of the nest, "Awww, look! She's smiling at us!"

"Speaking of which, we really ought to give "she" a name." mumbled Sidewinder, shifting her dark eyes for a moment to peer at the eggshell fragments littering the nest. One small reflective piece was stuck to the hatchling's head in a jaunty manner. The combination of silver on deep black scales reminded the old dragoness of something.

"How about Marble?" she suggested, thinking of the grand stone used for carving intricate statues or great structures. Though not used in the Sand Kingdom, she knew it had been used in the Night City before it's abandonment.

Sunbeetle wrinkled her snout, preparing to argue, but relented upon hearing the hatchling squeak at the name, "Yeah, that sounds fitting. At least she'll have a piece of her heritage in her name, if nothing else besides her scales."

The newly dubbed Marble squeaked again, before beginning to wobble about on the nest's floor as she took a few steps. She nudged at a few eggshell fragments, curious at how they shimmered as they moved. She stopped as a new sensation gripped her abdomen, or stomach to be precise. It was a faintly gnawing but insistent feeling that prodded at her. Her instincts told her it meant hunger; she needed food to give her energy for moving around.

To communicate the predicament to her aunts, Marble began to squeak repeatedly, opening and closing her mouth. Sidewinder smiled, knowing the urgent sounds well.

"She's hungry, hah," the elder broodmother turned to gesture at Sunbeetle's snack pouch, "Got anything in there that Marble might eat? NightWing diets are similar to ours, though they fare better on meat than insects."

Sunbeetle nodded and reached into her pack, "Sure, I think I have some camel jerky in here somewhere..."

She rifled around for a moment before triumphantly pulling out a strip of dried meat. Knowing Marble wouldn't be able to chew such a tough food yet, Sunbeetle began to chew it up with her teeth before carefully depositing it in a small pile near the hungry hatchling.

Marble stopped her barrage of squeaks as a delicious new scent hit her nose that came from the chewed meat. Her little stomach made a grumbling sound and her mouth salivated. This was food, and it would make her strong.

Without any sense of etiquette whatsoever Marble dove upon the pile of meat and began devouring it ravenously. Within a minute it had vanished as if it hadn't been there in the first place. Marble gave a burp, the gnawing hunger having been sated for the time being. She lay down on the soft floor of the nest, fluttering her fragile wings as she curled up. Lethargy began to overtake her similarly to when she'd been inside her egg. Thanks to her full belly and the exertion of hatching Marble was ready to sleep. The song of the moonlight was fading now, but it's gift remained forever with her. It was dormant for now, but soon the power would awaken in her veins ready to be used as a guide for the future.

The two broodmothers watching over the dark hatchling whispered to one another as the hours passed, wondering at the birth of this odd new addition to the SandWing Tribe. They stayed sitting at the nest until dawn came, now and then doing a quick pass to check if any other eggs hatched. No others inside the hatchery would be hatching for a few days, but further away within the Sand Fortress, two mournful parents had just experienced the hatching of their own clutch.

* * *

Earlier in the night, before the hatching of the egg taken from far away, other hatchlings were getting ready to break out themselves. In the upper segments of the Sand Stronghold were a number of homes. All of these homes were dark and quiet, save one. Yellow candles of beeswax gave a warm glow from inside the sandstone abode of Gritclaw and Dunesweep.

Normally both occupants of the small but tasteful rooms would be fast asleep at this hour when not off on missions. But tonight was an exception, for tonight was when their eggs would hatch. Dunesweep had known since listening that morning that it would be under the blanket of blackness and stars that her children would enter the big, wide, wonderful world known as Pyrrhia. Most SandWing eggs hatched under the scorching daytime sun but a small number did hatch in the cooler evenings. Given that the offspring of Gritclaw and Dunesweep were of mixed tribe descendance, neither were really certain the eggs would follow standard SandWing hatching patterns.

The proud parents weren't so much proud at that moment as anxious. Gritclaw had been pacing back and forth in the nest room ever since the sun set. He only paused for water and to fuss over the nest. He didn't eat, for he felt that if he did he might throw up. Despite having faced many dangers over his lifetime of espionage, none of it had prepared Gritclaw for the responsibility of parenthood. The three precious lives inside the eggs were counting on him and Dunesweep to grow them into their own destinies.

There was a brief pause in the click-clack of his claws on the stone floor as he grabbed a glass of water from a wooden table, one of the few furniture items in the nest room. All it contained were drawers for hatchling supplies, a small table near a window against the wall, and a large, soft bedding stuffed with goose-down made for the hatchlings when they arrived. Close to the bedding was the room's namesake. It was a large nest traditionally woven of sturdy twigs, feathers and covered at it's base with a wool blanket, containing a clutch of three eggs. The eggshells themselves were a mix of brilliant red, fiery orange and tawny yellows.

Curled near the eggs was their mother Dunesweep. Unlike her mate, who's restless energy never seemed to cease, she was much stiller. Dunesweep had sealed away her worries and fears since several hours previous. She could feel them, even now, twisting and writhing, pushing, screaming to get out. But she couldn't let them. For the sake of her mate, and her own fragile, foolish hopes, Dunesweep had to put on the mask of calm.

The anxiety she felt was different to Gritclaw's. The worries of being a new parent were merely the background of more terrible portents. Dunesweep was listening, as she'd been listening for all the hours since she awoke that day and the day before. She felt as though, in a way, she already knew her children. Could see their life force as it thumped and swished and moved beneath the shells.

_'Or... the lack of it.'_

Once more that little thought poked at her mind, seeking to unravel it. Dunesweep held firm and curled her tail a little tighter around the clutch. Since the previous day she'd known something was wrong. Her clutch had been healthy until now and showing signs of imminent hatching. Two of the eggs remained like this, but one... was disconcertingly quieter. There was no sound of the egg fluid moving within or the hatchling inside trying to break out. It's faint heartbeat remained, but even that seemed to be faltering.

The signs were clear. Dunesweep knew well what they meant from all she'd learned from the broodmothers.

_'It was foolish of me to think it would all go perfectly. Hybrid clutches don't always turn out properly. But maybe...'_

She sighed, turning her creased yellow eyes once more to look at the weakening egg. It's shell was creamy yellow mixed with tawny brown, almost like a proper SandWing egg. One giveaway of it's difference was the fact the shell had a smooth SkyWing texture rather than that of a rougher SandWing shell. The tiny baby dragon inside was still. Unlike it's siblings, who were diligently pecking away at their shell prisons, this one simply floated without stirring. Dunesweep didn't want to say it out loud or even think it to herself. The news would break Gritclaw's heart as it was already breaking hers.

_'The baby is dying. There's nothing I can do.'_

Dunesweep steadied her grip on the torrent of emotions threatening to burst through her mouth in a terrible roar. Anger, sadness, resentment, it all came to the fact that she was helpless to do anything at all. The whims of nature were to be trifled with by no mortal beings. Not even dragons.

** _*crack*_ **

With the potency of a bolt of lightning the sound jolted Dunesweep from her melancholy. Gritclaw had heard it too as it fractured the stifling silence of the room. He'd come running to the nest clumsily, almost dropping the small pouch he'd snatched from the supply drawers. A smile slowly grew over his muzzle to replace the wrinkled frown he'd been wearing for so long. Gritclaw was focused on one of the three eggs, which had a shell reminiscent of amber tree sap. It was rocking back and forth quite vigorously in the nest. A long crack had broken the smooth surface and was growing fast.

Another of the eggs, shell red like the sunset, began to rock about and bump into the amber egg. Jagged lines were spiderwebbing quicker and quicker along it's shell. Every knock with the lighter egg seemed to help both of them break free more easily.

Gritclaw laughed to himself quietly as he watched, _'Not even hatched yet, and they're working together. Or bickering...'_

His bright smile slowly faded as his gaze fell to the third egg. It hadn't stirred at all yet. The hatchling inside didn't even seem to be moving.

"Dunesweep?"

The soon-to-be mother dragoness shut her eyes tightly and clenched her jaw at the simple question. As the clamor of breaking shells grew louder, the third hearbeat grew slower. In the chaotic hatching a tremendous smashing sound rocked the nest. Dunesweep listened.

A loud squeak came from the nest, now covered in colorful eggshell. The lonely life inside the unhatched egg had stopped it's heartbeat. Amongst the piercing noise of the two rambunctious hatchlings as they explored their new world, their lost sibling was like an empty hole in a freshly-woven tapestry.

The pair of hatchlings were wrestling on the nest floor innocent to the plight of their parents. One had scales ranging from tawny brown to a light amber, his tiny wings somewhat large for his frame, perhaps a sign of SkyWing inheritance. His face, though not yet developed fully by age, seemed to suggest a SandWing visage. At the end of his tail was the blunt stinger of a hatchling SandWing.

The other had colorful scales reminiscent of his mother with bright mixes of orange and crimson. His wings were smaller than his sibling's though they seemed sturdier. His build was subtly bulkier as well, though he seemed a bit clumsier than his sibling as they wrestled on the nest-floor. His small, sharper features were suggestive of SkyWing influence. Like his sibling he too had a developing stinger on the end of his tail.

The two were brothers and always would be from that moment onwards. As they grew older they would scarcely remember there even existed a third egg in their clutch. When such tragedies of nature befell dragon parents they would typically not linger on it for long. In their primal days they were tough, practical creatures, and some of that long-ago survival sense lingered still.

Dunesweep's eyes vacantly watched her two sons as they enjoyed their first moments of true life. She spoke in a hollow, dead voice to her mate as he stared at the unhatched egg with pain in his black eyes.

"The last egg, it's..." she paused and shook her head sharply, "The baby inside is dead, Gritclaw. We got lucky as it is with these two. You knew as well as I did that this was a possibility. I mourn our loss, but thank the moons above that two of our children survived."

She hated how bland it sounded, as though she'd just mentioned a cactus fruit that'd gone rotten. Dunesweep closed her eyes and let her painful grief burn away inside her until nothing was left but ash. There would be time to mourn later at their offspring's funeral rites.

Something bumped against one of her forelegs, reminding her that there were still two hungry mouths that depended on her now. Gritclaw wordlessly moved beside her and nuzzled his head with hers comfortingly. He looked down upon the colorful pair of tangled siblings as they squeaked with wide mouths for food. Gently, he separated them and reached into the supply pouch he held in one foretalon. At the talons of each hatchling he placed a soft, juicy brown grub. Plump larvae of tatterwing moths were often kept around the Sand Kingdom as food for baby dragons due to their soft texture and nourishing flesh.

While the brothers eagerly gobbled down their first meals Dunesweep suggested in a soft voice,

"We should give them names, don't you think?"

Gritclaw nodded his agreement and pointed to the amber-tawny hatchling nearest to him, "I'll name this one." he stepped away from his mate and leaned down towards his son, a small smile growing on his snout.

"Hello there, I'm your dad! Your name will be Adder, because you'll be as quick and smart as a snake when you grow up. You'll be faster than the rest, I'm sure of it. "

Dunesweep nodded in approval, nudging the newly-named Adder softly with her snout in affection. She turned her head to the right and peered at the red hatchling, who was still finishing his plump meal.

"I'm your mother, little one." Dunesweep said softly to him, "The name you shall have is one from my old home. Torque, that is who you are, my son. You'll burn as brightly as any of those stars up there, I promise."

Though the loss of one of their children still weighed heavy upon their minds the new parents shared an ember of hope between them. Their sons would likely face hardships as they grew, but they would grow with great destinies ahead of them in the SandWing tribe. Intruding on this shared hope, a passing feeling bothered Dunesweep for a moment; it was as though something had caused a ripple in the unknowable and infinite seas of time. As though someone had walked over her grave, though she had not yet been lain to rest.

_'Melodramatic thinking, but I can't help but feel like these two might not be as rooted here as I hope... hmm.'_ she rolled her eyes,_ 'NightWing superstition is getting to me I suppose.'_

Dismissing the odd notion with a shake of her head, Dunesweep leaned down to nuzzle her two hatchlings, who were now seeking affection instead of food with their small squeaks.

Softly, she murmured in passing something she hoped they might remember, "Torque and Adder, no matter where you go or what you do, never forget who you are."


End file.
